One ritual at our house is making cookies every weekend, most often for Mike’s work lunches. We typically make what I call “kitchen sink cookies” for which there is no real recipe. We start with a standard base of butter, brown sugar, eggs, vanilla, etc. and then use whatever we have handy to fill in the rest: chocolate chips, peanut butter, oatmeal, flax meal, wheat germ, coconut, butterscotch chips, trail mix, nuts, seeds, chopped up toffee bits, cocoa powder, you name it. Sometimes it seems like they end up with everything except the kitchen sink in them, so perhaps I should call them the “Everything but” cookies (except nobody wants to eat a cookie with the word “but” in the name).
There have been days when I’ve rebelled against the ritual of the kitchen sink cookie. I’ve said to Mike, “I’m going to make something different this weekend, something basic like a traditional oatmeal raisin cookie.” His response is inevitably, “But you’re going to put chocolate chips in them, right?”
“No, no chocolate chips, not in an oatmeal raisin cookie,” I say.
“But you’re going to put peanut butter in them, right? I mean, that’s protein.”
“Yes, it is protein, but then it wouldn’t really be an oatmeal raisin cookie.”
“But it’s protein.”
And on that note I just have to let the conversation drop there and continue baking. I’ll just have to let the deliciousness of the finished product win him over and make him forget all about peanut butter and chocolate for the time being (not possible, but I’m an optimist).
However, as the reason for baking cookies each weekend really is about providing Mike with something for his lunches, I don’t stray far from the path. The man loves peanut butter chocolate chip kitchen sink cookies and that’s what he shall have… most of the time.